Madame Rat
by Guille van Cartier
Summary: Baron Humbert von Gikkingen finds himself dealing with another strange sort of problem when an old rat woman, stricken with amnesia, appears at the cat bureau, seeking help. Who is Madame Rat, and who is she looking for?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone who might be reading this at the moment. My name is Guille van Cartier, and it is very unusual for me to be writing outside of the Disney section of And, though I suppose it could be considered a Disney movie, this is the first story I have written about a Studio Ghibli film. It's not that I haven't been able to draw up a well of ideas from my library of the Studio's movies (I want to be an animator; the movies are _wonderful _in many ways and the animation is one of them). It's just that the Cat Returns has something that the other films I have in my library don't. And that is Baron Humbert von Gikkingen! I know he was in another film; during my ten years in japan I saw a small portion of the movie while flipping through channels. What I saw was a Japanese girl singing the song "Country Road" in, of course, Japanese (which was pretty cool). But what really caught my attention was the handsome cat in the suit that I only saw a small bit of. I was intrigued. I needed to know. But I never got to see the rest. When I saw this movie come into America... I wanted it! I wanted to know how Baron was! And now I do! And I love him! And Muta, and Haru, and eveyrone else! If only I could see whisper of the heart... then my life would be complete... Ah well. This story is about Baron and Muta, a little bit about Haru is inserted in chapters, and there is a new character of my own creation. I hope you don't hate her. She's based on a character in Final Fantasy IX (it isn't her exactly, but she _is _based upon her). So, if you're still reading this amazingly long note, Read and Review, I say! Be kind to a writer!

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Disclaimer: The Cat Returns and its characters do not belong to me, but to Disney and Studio Ghibli... I guess. I am not making any money from this (believe me; I'd know if I was). This story is just for my amusement. And, hopefully, the amusement of others.**

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Night began to fall over the miniature houses that surrounded the cat bureau; one by one the far away stars twinkled into view. The sun disappeared behind the pointed frames of the painted buildings, leaving behind a golden stain of light before finally sinking below the unseen horizon. The lanterns and lights of the Baron's green and white office flickered on with a small glasslike tinkling.

Almost immediately following, the twin doors opened, revealing a figure, silhouetted against the yellow indoor lights. Baron Humbert von Gikkingen stepped forward, out of the charming dwelling onto the neat little cobblestones that paved the square before him. He was dressed as usual, sans the formal white jacket, his polished cane, and top hat. He held a saucer and a cup of his tea in his white-gloved hands.

Baron turned to his side, and stopped suddenly as he noted a large white cat sitting, newspaper spread out before him, upon the chair set before one of his house's windows.

"Muta," the figurine said, his tone mildly surprised. "Is that you?"

The cat grumbled, half-listening to the well-dressed form addressing him, seemingly absorbed in his paper. Baron grinned lightly.

"I suppose I'll take that as a yes, hm?" he asked, a hint of friendly irony in his aristocratic accent.

"You know it's me," Muta replied somewhat sourly, his nose twitching. "Don't ask stupid questions like that."

"Well, I'm sorry," Baron said sincerely. "I was just a bit surprised, you know. I haven't seen you in ages. I had felt like taking a cup of tea beneath the stars this night." He made his way to the wall just beside his stout companion and leant against it, lifting the cup to his lips for a small sip of his special brew. "Hm," he said judgingly, swirling it in his mouth for a moment before finally swallowing it. "Not exactly my best, I'll admit, but it isn't horrible."

Muta just shrugged at this comment, never too keen on the subtleties of tea, and continued to glance over his newspaper. Humbert cast him a fond smile.

"So, Muta," he began, taking another slight sip of his beverage, "where have you been this past month?"

"Around," the cat replied bluntly, turning the page.

"Around?" the half-man figure repeated, raising a suspicious brow.

Muta shot him an angry look, one that Baron found overly familiar. "Yeah, around!" he exclaimed, having noted the doubt in the aristocrat's statement and immediately taking offense. "You don't believe me? That's too bad! I've been around, okay, Baron? That's it; don't ask anymore questions!"

Baron just nodded in understanding and returned to his drink, though it was obvious in his green eyes how curious he still felt about his comrade's past whereabouts. Though Muta was a stray, it seemed that he had found something of a home in Baron's office. He came and went as he pleased, but it wasn't usual that he went a month without returning. Muta never seemed to wander too far from the Bureau. And, despite the rough exterior that the large cat portrayed, Humbert could not help but feel an affection for the lumbering brute. He did want to know where Muta had been, but he thought it impolite to press further into an issue that the other obviously did not want to discuss.

An awkward silence pursued Muta's outburst, broken only by the sipping of Baron's tea and the newspaper's uneasy crinkling. The Baron, whose face had once again fallen back into the serious but friendly expression that he took normal claim to, suppressed a small smile at the latter noise, and took another swallow from his china cup, the sound unusually loud in the stillness of the night air.

"Now that's just cocky," Muta muttered unhappily at the noise, burying his nose deeper into the fold of the paper, making it more and more obvious that he was not really reading. Baron said nothing, doing little more than taking another mouthful of tea. Another silence ensued, until the large cat, without taking his eyes away from the unread article, muttered, "So, where's the chicken?"

Humbert lifted himself slightly off the wall of his house, placing his cup on the painted saucer and stroking his chin as he stared at the tall stone pillar at the center of the square. The flat top was empty; the raven statue was not there.

"I suppose he's off traveling somewhere," he said at length, returning his attention to the round feline beside him. "You know, going around."

Muta grunted, as if accepting the information. The figurine nodded at him quietly, taking a final draught of his tea before replacing the cup on its matching plate and placing it beneath Muta's chair. His green eyes moved to the moon, which had begun its steady climb into the dark-blue ether, its face full and pale, blemished only by the shadow of the rabbit of lore.

A strange feeling shot through the Baron's spine, a foreboding sensation that shattered the gentle ambiance that had filled his separate world in an abrupt moment. His face turned suddenly to the long street that extended down from the small square, and a sudden breeze, gentle but ominous, disturbed his long whiskers. Humbert pushed of against the wall and walked a ways into the square, facing the wind with narrowed eyes.

"Something wrong, Baron?" Muta said, lowering his paper to look at the figure, bewildered.

"There's a breeze," the figurine replied at length, looking about him warily, his back curved in a feline crouch.

"Yeah, so what, it's a little chilly," Muta said dismissively, straightening out the slightly ruffled pages. "Deal with it."

"You don't understand, Muta," Baron muttered, almost growling. His frown deepened by the moment. "A breeze in this world means that we've been connected. Something's coming!"

The large cat stood up suddenly, his papers falling from his lap onto the cobbled ground. He made his way to Humbert's side, looking back and forth from one end of the square to the other, suddenly suspicious. "What's coming?" he asked, far from knowing what to be looking for.

"I don't know," the Baron replied after a moment. His eyes lifted to scan the heavens. "It might be another stray who accidentally entered. But of course, it could always be something..." Humbert stopped suddenly and lifted one gloved hand to the darkened skies, a long finger pointing upward at a point just past the moon. "There!" he exclaimed, and a streak of light split the heavens.

"What the heck is that?" Muta cried, staring up at the sky as the vein of gold continued falling downward, following behind the bulk of some unknown thing. Baron's eyes narrowed warily, watching the entity as it continued its descending journey, moment by moment nearing the quiet house-lined place. His eyes shot open suddenly, and, grabbing Muta by the arm, he yelled, "Get out of the way!"

Moments afterward, a large, fiery object blasted into the ground, narrowly missing both felines, and singing badly Muta's stub of a tail. Particles of cobblestone and mortar flung outward at the impact, the two figures guarding their faces behind their arms, and smoke wafted upward as the entity came to a sudden stop after burying itself halfway into the once beautiful square. Slowly the fires extinguished, leaving naught but smoldering embers scattered about the edges of its newly made hole.

After several moments of shocked silence between the two of them, Muta lowered his protective arm and took a long, stunned stare at the collision site. He took a tentative step forward, then stopped, unsure whether or not it were wise to continue. "What do you think it is?" he asked Humbert, shaking, as the other cat dusted himself off almost uncaringly with a once white handkerchief that he kept in his vest pocket.

"I don't know," he replied candidly, tucking the hankie back into his pouch. He joined Muta's side and looked at it in an examining manner, his hand finding its way to his chin, a thoughtful look on his handsome face. "Perhaps it is a meteorite. It certainly seems it."

"Don't usually get anything else falling out of skies nowadays," Muta said, acceding. Baron made his quick but unrushed way to the site, where he leaned over the smoking remains of the shock. The large cat followed, much more assured of his safety now that some idea of the object was at hand, and he put a cautious toe against the blackened surface of the unidentified object. He yelped at the uncomfortable heat, jumping backwards on his unmarred foot, and Baron did nothing other than click his tongue at his comrade's unwise action and continue perusing the thing.

Beyond the diminishing smoke was what seemed little more than a burnt rock, bits and pieces crumbling off of it, fragile as charcoal. It was overall unmoving, besides some understandable shifting, caused by the heavy, nearby crashing of Muta's unhappy jumps. Humbert peered at in uneasily, wanting to touch it for further examination, but knowing better to do so even before Muta had made his painful mistake. His fingers stroked the fur that fell from his jaw, a soft, thoughtful murmur whispering from his near-closed lips. There seemed nothing unusual about the object; it appeared to be little more than a meteorite, a slightly disappointing thing, but nonetheless somewhat relieving.

"I'll crush that thing!" Baron heard Muta cry, the crash of his angry jumps disappearing and quickly becoming the weighty, lumbering thuds of his approaching steps. Baron thought little of it at first. After all, it was only a meteorite, and it would do little in their near futures than perhaps sit upon one of Humbert's shelves, serving as nothing more than a souvenir. And, though he disapproved of his companion's unneeded violence, he supposed that one moment of it might not be too uncalled for.

But, just as Muta was feet away from the supposed meteorite, Baron noticed suddenly a shock of silver reveal itself as one portion of the black crust collapsed into dust. With a quick and barely foreseen movement, he stood up, extending an outward palm in the fat cat's direction, ordering him to stop. The white cat slid to an uneasy halt, nearly colliding with the Baron's hand before regaining his bearings and demanding the figurine's reasons.

"It's just a stupid rock!" he exclaimed in annoyance, an unbecoming scowl twisting his large face. "Who's it going to hurt?"

Humbert ignored the teeth that Muta had bared threateningly, and stated in a calm and knowing voice, "I'm not quite sure, Muta. Why don't we both go over and introduce ourselves?" He gestured toward the hole, just inches away from the heels of his well-polished shoes, and turned about, crouching down to the ground yet again so that his nose was but a short distance from the supposed "meteorite's" surface. Muta grumbled, flustered, but did as he was told, taking a heavy seat on the singed cobblestones that surrounded the new hole.

Baron, noting the almost total disappearance of the once plentiful smoke, reached back into his breast pocket, pulling out the slightly soiled kerchief that he had used to clean himself after the impact. He patted the black crust slightly, thin slices of rock disconnecting from the larger entity. He continued this exercise until a spot of red fabric, slightly smudged with the dark powder, appeared from beneath the chalky exterior.

Muta's eyes widened in surprising, wondering just what it was that he would've crushed had the Baron had not halted his beginning rampage.

Humbert's face was unmoving and thoroughly somber as he continued to clean away the ugly crust, revealing more and more red, joined later by touches of platinum and brass, which was then followed by the browns of worn leather thongs. Slowly, inch by inch, Baron uncovered a figure, curled up into a fetal ball, hidden less than an inch inside the rock. Muta watched warily, surprised and intrigued by the new character, still wondering whether or not it would've been better for him to have crushed it beforehand.

Finally, Humbert completed his dusting, and he put the now thoroughly soiled hanky to a spot beside his brown shoes, newly covered in a film of black dust. He and Muta stared silently at the figure within the meteorite, and they examined it, more than a little suspicious at its unusual appearance into the world of creations with souls.

Whether or not it was a male or a female was indiscernible at that moment, barely any distinguishing features visible because of its tight position. It was wearing a long, red coat, with butterfly sleeves that fell about its arms, which curled around its bent legs. It had silver hair and fur poking out from beneath a large hat, red as well. The cap looked as if had endured much; it was worn and dusty, though the latter could've easily been attributed to its encasement. Its face was long and tucked behind its knees, which had worn on them a pair of strange orange britches. It also had on a pair of leather boots, as worn down as the hat.

"What do you think it is?" Muta asked at length, his nose twitching uneasily at the sight. "Some kind of ugly rabbit?"

"It isn't a rabbit," Baron answered quickly, a strange sparkle appearing in his green eyes. "This, Muta, is a _rat_."

The large cat let out something of an unhappy growl, and he cast the rat a look that was far from welcoming, his expression lacking any of the charming curiosity that it had held moments before. Baron shushed Muta, putting a finger to his lips. Extending a gloved hand, he took one of the figure's shoulders and shook it gently.

"Excuse me," he began, his voice soft without any note of anger or unhappiness. "Wake up, please."

The figure stirred slightly, and its head lifted up, revealing a pair of heavily-lashed green eyes from beneath the wide brim of her hat. Muta looked at her, a grimace still set resolutely on his feline face, but Baron looked upon her with a gentle smile, his hand remaining on her shoulder though the shaking stopped. The figure strove to sit up, struggling with her arms, which had seemed to lose all strength at that moment. Her face wasn't wizened, but Baron could tell fromher expression, that shehad lived already a long life. She seemed groggy, barely perceiving her surroundings, her eyes continually blinking as if unsuccessfully attempting to rid her sight of any sleepy blurriness. She glanced at Muta unknowingly, giving him only a second of her attention before immediately turning to Baron, who maintained the friendly, watchful expression.

"You wouldn't happen to," she began, her voice cracked like it had not been used for ages. She cleared her throat softly, heaving a weary sigh, before beginning again. "You wouldn't happen to... to have any tea on you, now would you?"

Muta let out an incredulous noise, which the Baron ignored easily (the figure, however cast the large cat a strange look, as if she had just seen a fat, talking lamppost). "Of course," he replied, proffering her a hand for support. "I always have a spot of tea for the weary traveler."

The rat-woman took his gloved hand drowsily, her own possessing four fingers, each clawed magnificently with long, well-manicured nails. Muta watched in disbelief as Humbert helped her to her feet and guided her out of the shallow hole.

"Weary traveler?" Muta echoed angrily, coming to his feet just as Baron and the rat made their way into the opened doors of the cat bureau. "What do you mean 'weary traveler'? She's a rat for goodness sakes!"

The figurine and the new character paused just at the threshold, both glancing back at the indignant cat behind them.

"I'd say something," the woman said after a moment, her look still drowsy but surprisingly upset, "but I don't suppose it would be polite, nor would it come out right in my current state."

Baron just cast her a smile and led her further into the elaborate room within. "Don't worry, my dear," he said, placing her upon the crimson sofa with a smile. He made his way to where he kept all his tea things, opening a glass and wood cabinet to take out another set of cup and saucer. He glanced at the door, where Muta's hefty form made its unhappy approach, accompanied by the mumbled tones of sour mutterings. Baron just smiled, pouring a spot of tea fromthe oldpot he had already out. He handed her the cup and saucer with a friendly grin. "It's all part of his charm."

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**And that's the end of it. I suppose that I could've done a little better on the writing, but I was writing it during a party. Yes, even though I have friends over,I still sit on my computer and type without paying any attention. I'm not sure if its dedication, or if it's just plain rude. Maybe it's both. Or, maybe, I'm just not good at get togethers and should never try to have another again. At least not of my own free will. I wanted to watch The Cat Returns while nearly everyone else wanted to watch Spirited Away. But it was my house, so, obviously, I won. After it, I immediately went to the computer and typed while everyone else watched their movie. I love Spirited Away, but I've seen it so many times! Ah well. Read and Review! And of course, constructive criticism really helps! I would love to know what you all think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Here it is, the second chapter of Madame Rat. Please Review! Constructive Criticism is wanted!**

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"I brewed it a few minutes ago, so I apologize if it is a little cold."

Baron tucked his hands behind his back politely as his new guest took the cup of tea that he had offered, watching her intently. Her movements had improved quickly from their original lethargy, her grip on the teacup's handle just strong enough to keep it from slipping away. He supposed that her drowsiness was just a side effect from her collision. After all, it had seemed an intense ordeal, and from what he could tell the woman was rather old, something only evident in her eyes and voice, for wrinkles were few and near invisible beneath her silver fur.

The woman raised the cup to her chapped lips, barely responding to Humbert's words, nothing but a small, crackling murmur escaping her. Baron watched as she took a small drink of the liquid, her sip strangely dainty despite her rough and worn appearance, and then quietly replace the cup on its matching saucer with a small clink of china. A smile, genial but subtle, slowly spread across her face at the minute dose, and she looked up at Baron thankfully.

"You needn't worry," she told him before taking another drink, this one long and savoring. "The tea is perfect."

Humbert cast her an appreciative smile, thanking her accordingly, and then asked her politely if he may take her hat.

"I thank you for the tea and that as well," she said as he hung her tattered red cap on the polished, wood stand near the door, placing it just beside his cane. "I'm sorry for not thanking you sooner. It was rude of me."

Baron smiled at her, making his way to the armchair opposite her, his usual spot when dealing with the few who strayed into his world. He took no tea for himself; he had already had his cup, and he thought it wise to save the rest for his visitor, should she need it, which was not implausible.

"There is no need for apologies, miss," Humbert said courteously, taking his seat. "I understand your condition and I would not hold any such behavior against you. I suppose I would act the same way, had I experienced what you had tonight."

The woman nodded quietly, saying nothing. Baron noted the strange look in her eye with a silent interest; it seemed slightly confused, somewhat frightened, as if his words had meant something that she did not understand. But, he did not bring any audible attention to it. He only observed her as she drank her tea, his hand cupped loosely about his jaw, regarding every move she made and perusing its meanings with a precision similar to that of Sherlock Holmes.

The woman let out a somewhat satisfied sigh with her last sip of tea, staring afterward into the dregs that remained in her cup in an appreciative manner. "That was the best cup of tea that I've had in ages," she muttered, speaking more to herself than to Humbert, who listened to her words fixedly nonetheless. A nostalgic smile fixed itself upon her face, the woman probably delving into memories of things long since passed. Baron kept his eyes upon her though she did nothing, allowing her the time to reminisce, his manner patient and collected. Her smile weakened into a half-frown, a sparkle of sadness appearing in her green eyes. "This rat's getting old," she said at length, her rough but pleasant voice tinged with a wistful tone. "It's about time that she drank real tea once again, and not the cheap brew whose bags she still so resolutely sews into the hems of her jackets..."

Muta suddenly lumbered into the room, his newspaper tucked beneath his armpit, an unhappy scowl gracing his wide face. Humbert, whose attention before had been upon the rat woman, turned in surprise at the loud footsteps, staring at Muta warily as the cat made his way further into the quaint office. He stopped at the large red sofa, directly behind the woman. There he remained for a long while, staring down at her almost angrily.

At first glance it would seem that the rat in the red coat took no notice of the towering figure who skulked behind her, glaring impolitely upon her as if she were evil. But, from further examination on the part of Humbert von Gikkingen, it became evident that she knew very well who stood behind her and what he was doing; she only refused, out of the goodness in her heart, to bring any obvious attention to the blatant discourtesy. Muta was doing it all in an attempt of upsetting the rat, as well as showing her his great dislike, and it seemed that she was resolute in denying him the pleasure of succeeding.

After a while of pursuing this end (and getting nowhere near achieving it), Muta resigned, plodding his way heavily to the table at the corner of the room, muttering barely audible, impolite things beneath his breath. "—took my seat," was all that the Baron was able to perceive of all of Muta's ramblings as the cat made his way to the desk, which he sat next to with a heavy thud against the floorboards. Muta's behavior somewhat embarrassed Humbert, but he understood it nonetheless. After all, cats and rats never were naturally inclined to like one another. Quite on the contrary, really. It was this inbred hate and his lack thereof that made Baron different from actual cats, amongst other more obvious reasons, so he of course knew well enough not to act in such a way. But, of course, he could do little about it. He could do no more, it seemed, than apologize to his guest for his comrade's behavior.

"Please forgive Muta for his conduct, miss," Humbert requested, chastising the white cat with a stern look. "It's his nature. He lives on instinct, and he doesn't always think about what he does or says."

"I can tell," the woman replied, glancing at Muta angrily from behind her silver hair.

Muta noted the look quickly, his attention having been set resolutely upon the rat. He exploded upward angrily, his back slouched in an almost predatory way. "What does that mean, Rat?" he demanded, baring his glinting, sharp teeth ferociously.

"It means exactly as I said it," she replied, her tone calm but surprisingly cold.

"Are you calling me a stupid idiot who doesn't think?" he asked, taking a belligerent step toward her.

"I said no such thing," she said, her voice hinting anger. "This young man here," she began, gesturing toward Baron, who watched Muta with a growing shame, "is the one who described you, and I only agreed. He, as well, said no such thing. I believe you yourself are coming up with such descriptions, and it is not my fault, nor that of your friend, if you think of yourself in such a manner!"

"Oh dear," Humbert muttered, shaking his head and tenting his fingers before his mouth as if to keep anything inappropriate from slipping out.

"Don't lie, Rat!" Muta continued, growling now. "You were thinking it!"

A frigid smirk tugged at the corner of the woman's mouth. "Perhaps I was. But we're not dealing with what I thought, but what I said, am I not right?"

"Why you—stupid Rat!" the cat cried, waving an irate fist at her. "I'll claw your eyes out!"

"Now, Muta," Baron broke in warningly, standing up from his seat, his mouth turned down in a disapproving grimace. "Don't say such thi—"

"If you think you can do it, then, for heaven's sake, go ahead and try!" she said, interrupting the Baron in anger, an impolite action that did not seem possible for her to perform just moments ago. Her hands were clutched into fists, an obvious dislike shown in the seething scowl that took her face.

"Alright, then!" Muta started forward, his claws coming out threateningly. "I will, you dirty Rat!"

"Muta!" Humbert exclaimed, rushing between him and the woman, who had stood up to accept his challenge. "Do not do it," he told the large cat in a low, upset whisper, his piercing green eyes glaring up at him in warning.

"Will you stop calling me rat!" the woman suddenly exclaimed behind him, angry. "It's rude, degrading, and I will not have any of it!"

"Well, sorry, Mrs. Come-in-without-introducing-yourself!" Muta screamed back over Baron's head. "Maybe if you were more polite I'd have known it by now!" He said this in a mocking manner, and Humbert was getting a little fed up. He sighed, waiting quietly for whatever defensive comeback the woman, whom he realized then was still quite nameless, would come up with. But there was none. When it became awkward, Humbert decided to turn about and see what had happened.

The rat-woman stood before the sofa, unmoving as if frozen, a look of unhappy shock set upon her face. It seemed as if she wanted to reply very much to what Muta had said, that she wanted to scream at him something that would defeat his last comment. But she was silent, and her mouth did not move to even indicate any desperate attempt at conjuring one. It seemed as if something that Muta said had stunned her totally, though, considering his comrade's last attempt, Baron doubted it. It was strange and unsettling, seeing her stand there in such a manner, but neither of the two cats did or said anything in response, other than stare.

Finally, with a withering sigh, the woman fell back onto the sofa behind her, lowering her head to her chest in a gesture of surrender. Humbert watched her curiously, his attention far away from Muta, who, at the moment, was acting extremely cocky at his supposed victory.

"So you gave up, did you?" he asked her insultingly, his lips curled back into a sneering grin. "Afraid of old Muta, weren't you, huh?"

The woman did not respond, but continued to stare down at her hands, which were clutched together tightly, resting upon her lap.

"You mustn't be too upset about what he said," Baron said at length, deciding there was no other answer to her strange actions than Muta's insult on her manners. "Muta was one to talk. And, anyway, I'd quite forgotten to introduce myself, so we would both be at fault." Baron approached her genially and offered her a gloved hand, his smile encouraging. "My name is Baron Humbert von Gikkingen," he told her. "I didn't quite catch yours."

She was silent, her head still bowed in defeat. Baron's hand did not withdraw, however, and he remained before her, smiling kindly. Muta had quieted down, and he watched Baron with a sort of upset anger at his benevolence toward something as sickeningly horrible as a rat. Unlike Humbert, the large cat regarded the woman as nothing less of one, ignoring the idiosyncrasies that she had, blind to her clothes and the way the seasoned way that she drank her tea. She was nothing more than an old rat.

Several long moments had passed. The woman had yet to reply and Baron had yet to pull back his hand. Muta regarded this with a growl, until he exploded.

"Come on, Baron, just ignore her!" he exclaimed, putting a heavy paw on his comrade's shoulders, threatening to pull him back. "She wants to be rude, let her be, she's nothing but a rat."

"Muta," Humbert said, a slight annoyance barely audible in his voice, "leave her alone. I don't mean any rudeness, but if there is anyone to blame for her silence, it is you."

"Huh!" The large cat looked at Baron in incredulous anger. "What do you mean? I didn't do—"

"I can't remember."

The two turned to the woman, who had finally spoke, though her face remained down.

"Excuse me, miss?" Baron asked, not completely understanding her words.

"I can't remember anymore... that's not good, is it? It is bad to forget..."

"You've forgotten something?"

Humbert saw her claws dig into her knees, a painful looking action. Moments later, a drop of water fell onto the red fabric that spread across her lap, followed by bead after bead, slowly dampening her coat. She was crying.

"I can't believe I've forgotten... I can't remember it, I can't remember anything!" She said this in a sort of desperation, the tears beginning to fall faster. Baron and Muta exchanged a glance.

"You've forgotten your name?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"My name, my age, my home... Almost everything!" she told him, shaking her head unhappily.

"You remember nothing?" Baron asked.

"All I remember... is that I have to find _him_... he's waiting for me..." She stood up suddenly, her face stained with tears, a sad but determined look on her face. "That's why I'm here! I need to find him! It's important!"

"Who's 'him'?" Muta asked, snubbing his nose at his curiosity, obviously not too pleased at its existence.

The woman gave him a look, one that was more questioning than angry. She fell silent again, as if not knowing how to answer. At length, she said, with a shuddering, unhappy breath, "I don't remember."

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**Well, that's the end of it! I want to answer to a comment I got from Thundercat...**

**You needn't explain to me what a Mary Sue is; I am one of that 90 percentthat you mentioned that abhor them. This isn't meant to be a Mary Sue (I love the Haru/Baron pairing; it's adorable!), and besides, Madame Rat is much too old(amongst several other reasons) to be in love with Baron. I understand the worry, but you don't have to! This isn't the first time I've written a fanfic; I have an idea what might or might not get me killed by the fandom. **

**-Guille van Cartier**


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